“That’s thirty minutes from now.”
“I know.”
“So we go today. Right now.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Will folded the note and slipped it into his pocket. “No sense waiting. The Baroness needs answers, and we need bodies for the 14th.”
I shook my head. “Spycraft dressed up as a love letter. Someone on that team has a flair for the dramatic.”
“It works. Anyone who intercepts it sees a woman pining for her sweetheart.” Will stood, brushed off his coat. “Come on. Let’s go find out if Hans’s sweetheart is ready to do more than talk of gentler days.”
25
Will
The Café Sélect was a quiet place on a side street near the university. Littered with wooden tables and lace curtains, the shop was filled with the heady aromas of fresh bread and strong coffee. It was the kind of establishment where professors graded papers and old men argued about politics, not the kind of place you’d expect to find American spies.
Which, of course, was exactly the point.
Thomas waited in the car parked in a lot two blocks away. The note had suggested only one of us should attend, and we’d agreed it was safer this way, with one person inside while one person watched the exits. If something went wrong, he could get word back to the Baroness. If nothing went wrong, I’d be out in thirty minutes.
I arrived at five minutes to two and took a table near the back with a clear view of the door. Per the note, I ordered a Café Americana from the waiter.He gave me a curious look. American coffee wasn’t a common order in Bern, but the man said nothing.
Then I waited.
The café was quiet.
An elderly man in the corner worked his way through a newspaper.
Two young women chatted over pastries near the window.
A professor type scribbled notes in a leather journal, oblivious to everything around him.
None of them looked like operatives, but spies rarely wore dark coats and black hats.
At 14:05, the door opened.
The shape that filled the doorframe was not what I’d expected.
Tall, dark-haired, with the kind of striking features that made heads turn, the woman wore a blue dress beneath a cream-colored coat and moved through the café with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how beautiful she was—and exactly how to use it.
Her eyes swept the room, found me, and immediately lit up with what looked like genuine joy.
“Hans!”
Before I could react, she was across the room.
Before I could speak, she was in my arms.
And before I could think, her mouth was on mine.
She kissed me like a woman who had been waiting months for this moment. The kiss was deep andhungry, the kind that made the elderly man look up from his newspaper and the two young women stop mid-conversation, their mouths agape.
When she finally pulled back, I was fairly certain I had forgotten how to breathe. My legs were a bit wobbly, too.
“God, I have missed you so much,” she said, loud enough for the room to hear. Then, softer, her lips brushing my ear: “Play along, handsome. We’re being watched.”
She pulled me back down into my chair and slid into the seat beside me, close enough that our thighs touched. With little more than a wink, she grabbed my arm, tossed it around her shoulders, and nuzzled into me. Her hand found its way to my thigh and began stroking up and back.
